Composed During The Last Leg Of A Long Trip Home Via Busas we were waiting, and waiting, two others arrivedRushing to fall in& over itselfwater leaves once breathless air heavy with sweetso easy to breathe in that coolness, the smellof a kind very two, of a feather what rapturesugar added to watersoftens & smoothes it so wellthat lacking it many a cup's incompletei despair, lacking skill, in these phrases to capturefor a bed one could so very easily takeplush expanses of moss,distinctly invitinga languor, a reclining delightwhat the senses and soul together connivelike when you firstsee the lightof the campfire builtby your loverwhile you were outgetting lost –– out, that is, in –yourself by yourselfyourself at yourselfyourself for yourself– looking & through –would you see what they see when they look at your mewould you know which it was when they recognized youwould you know what it was when you found itwould you know what you had when you had itwould youyou knowwould you know what to dobecause with enough of the cleverwith practiceif quick lucky or highyou can feel your way almost without being shownyou can taste on your lips breathlessness almost your ownyou can catch in someone's eyes the blue of the skymore precious than any thing the Earth on or undermore rare than any creature on dry land or in Watermore sought after than the grace of communicant Airmore strong than can the rushing of Fire e'er sunderthey reminded me strongly of one you and one i
